A Grizzly Moment

The True Story of a Montana Hunter


The fall came early in 1949 and the colors were as golden and red as you will ever see. The elk were bugling and the long mellow calls in the evening stirred every hunters' anxious heart.
Les had been waiting for the season to open. The meat house at the ranch was almost empty and with winter coming, an elk would save one steer that could go to market.


Day hunts were Les's favorite. Rising before daylight, saddling the packers with the old sawbucks took only a short time, and the ride to the top of the mountain was underway. The main elk herd was bunched up about a mile down into the Swan Valley and was easily spotted from Rocky Ridge.

Les tied the horses in a small grove of aspen and proceeded on foot to where he could get a good shot. A large bull stepped out of the trees about a hundred yards ahead. Les took aim and fired. The six-point bull went down. What a trophy rack for the lodge! After fetching the horses and the gear, Les quartered the big elk and loaded him up.

The lead packer carried the two hindquarters and the butcher gear. Les tied the rack over the front quarters of the second packer, mounted up, and headed for the top of the mountain. It was late afternoon when the group reached the top of the mountain. Les knew that it would be dark by the time he got home, but the lateness did not present a problem.

As they topped Rocky Ridge, the horses became edgy and the downed timber looked foreboding in the twilight. Suddenly, out of nowhere, shear terror burst onto the scene. Six hundred pounds of grizzly was tearing at the hindquarter of elk on the lead packer. In a flash he was gone, literally propelling the prize trophy through the air and out of sight.

The hunter had all the excitement he could handle for one day. The nervous horses headed downhill for the barn at a fair clip.

Relax time was coming and Les could hardly wait.